Of Sobers and Drunks
by Liquid Fire KAN
Summary: A night in Victorian England. Rukia Kuchiki is pissed at her brother, and her life – nothing's going her way. The last thing she needed was to get caught, scantily dressed, by a drunk. Funnily enough, fate had a way of working itself out. Ichigo Kurosaki… she would meet him again. AU.


**Disclaimer: BLEACH and all trademarks are the sole and rightful property of Kubo Tite and Shueisha Publishing.**

**Summary: **_A night in Victorian England. Rukia Kuchiki is pissed at her brother, and her life – nothing's going her way. The last thing she needed was to get caught, scantily dressed, by a drunk. Funnily enough, fate had a way of working itself out. Ichigo Kurosaki… she would meet him again._

**A/N: **I did not know that internet cafes still existed. Ever grateful... Wonder how much money I'll have to pay. It's been an hour now... Should be checking my emails.

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**Of Sobers and Drunks**

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"Lady Kuchiki," a woman exclaimed, "It's not right of you to be so scantily clad in public. What will the people think?"

Turning to face the flustered housekeeper, Rukia frowned. "Oh for heaven's sake, it's the dead of the night. No one is going to see me."

"What about your brother?" the housekeeper asked adamant.

"I'll be back soon, much before daybreak. He'll still be asleep when I return." The woman did not vanish and Rukia sighed. She sympathized with the woman – her brother was very strict. If he caught wind of her late night escapade… he would surely… Rukia shook her head – she did not want to think about that. And regardless, there was no need to worry – he would not hear of it. She would not utter a word, and she prayed the housekeeper had as much sense as her not to. Otherwise, she pitied her…

Rukia glanced at her. Her eyebrows were knit together in worry, the creases in her brow very prominent in the moonlit night. She placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. "

"Don't worry. This will not turn into a scandal. I'm just going out for a bit."

The woman burst, "Then by all means, do go. But at least put on some proper clothes and then go. What you are wearing – it is not at all appropriate. If the master hears about this he will have my head."

"Pray then, do not tell my brother. And I shall not utter a word to anyone either," Rukia replied scathingly, frustrated. The idea of being deterred did not sit well with her. "I will be back before dawn. And my brother will hear nothing of this."

Slowly, the woman nodded.

"Good," and then she was off through the streets of London. It was ludicrous to her, the idea of being seen. The lamps were far too dim, and the workmen who would clamber around in the busy hours of day were all gone to their dwellings.

'At this hour, all the poor souls will be asleep…' She sighed. For the men who labored long and hard in the lamentable heat and the bitter cold, she felt pity. They had done nothing wrong. But they had been born into poor families – unfortunate. Their fates, they did not deserve, she though. It was no fault of theirs – being born. She too had been born – but wealthy and with influence.

With pursed lips, Rukia sped up, the mansion that was her home, looming behind her. Her status had always been of constant annoyance to her. Lady Kuchiki, people would call her – never Kuchiki. And then they would expect great things of her. She was to be married into another wealthy family, and bring with that stipulation much honor to her family. Scoffing, she kicked the ground – honor…

It was something her brother always went on about. After her parent's had died – her mother during childbirth and her father of grief – she had no one left but him. And, to his merit, he had taken care of her, clothed her, and given her a home. As a brother he had performed his duty. Beyond that, she had never expected much. To him, she had only been a weapon, by which he could attain even more wealth… As if he didn't have enough money without marrying her off to some pansy nobleman.

A sneer graced her lips – as though she had a say in that. Her brother didn't care what she thought – her opinions were to be kept to herself, and she was to be married off for the good of the family.

Frustrated, Rukia turned a corner sharply. "Ah!"

"What's with that!?" a man cried as she fell backwards. "Why are you screaming, huh? You knocked into me!"

Rukia's eyes widened – if she was seen, her brother would… Her nose wrinkled and she sighed. There was no danger.

The man was drunk, sozzled out of his mind. She could tell – he reeked of liquor. Brushing herself off, she stood up. She would be on her way. A hand pulled her back. "You s-should a-pol-ogize."

"Take your hand off me," Rukia snarled. The man did not budge, but only tightened his grip. Snarling again, she turned, and firmly pushed against his chest. He staggered back and fell. "Aww… F-first you bump i-into m-me and n-now y-you, pu-push me…"

"You're drunk," she replied curtly. "I care not to entertain such people."

"S'alright," he mumbled sitting up sadly. "I'll let you b-be o-on… y-your… way…"

Rukia stopped, and threw the man a backward glance. For a drunk, he was quite sanguine. She felt guilty about leaving him. If the lord's men found him, he would have hell to pay for public intoxication. Sighing, she reached out a hand – maybe she could help him out. He wasn't so bad. "Come on, I'll take you to your house. I don't like the idea of leaving you out here in the cold. You're not clothed well either."

"N-neither are y-you," he smiled taking her hand letting her pull him up. "But I-I s'pose that's none of m-my b-business, miss."

"It isn't." Rukia pulled his arm over her shoulder. "Where do you stay?"

A pause, and then, "On the o-other s-side… of t-town… B-but I d-don't wanna go h-home t'night… B-best to stay here…"

Staring at him hard, Rukia frowned. "Nonsense, I'm sure your family is worried sick about you."

"Nah… a-after what I-I d-id… N-nah..." he grinned sadly again. Rukia's stomach lurched – she had always hated seeing others in pain. It was time to change the topic.

"What's your name?"

"K-Kurosaki I-Ichigo…"

Rukia sighed – she knew she was going to regret this, but… "It's a pleasure. My name's Kuchiki Rukia."

"Kuchiki, h-huh?" Ichigo chuckled. "I-I r-reckon t-that y-you don't want none to k-know you w-were h-here. S-so, I-I w-won't s-say a-anything."

Surprised, Rukia opened her mouth and closed it again. Watching her, Ichigo laughed. "S'like I-I s-said, m-miss… that ain't m-my business."

"Right," she nodded brusquely. "Well then, I won't ask about you then. Let's go."

Draping Ichigo's arm once again over her small frame, Rukia began walking, dragging the much heavier man in tow. Rukia noted that he still smelled of liquor. Her nose wrinkled. She had never had anything to drink in her life. The smell itself was so terrible. How could it taste any better?

Wrinkling her nose, she turned to look at the boy who was weighing down on her. He was young. His face was still youthful. Seventeen, eighteen, she supposed – quite young. Handsome even, she would argue, with his amber eyes, dull from exhaustion, and pointed jawline. He was quite good-looking – tall, lanky, good physique…

There was only one problem – his hair was a ridiculous shade of orange.

"Which fool dyes his hair orange?" she wondered aloud, frowning.

"Huh?" Ichigo mumbled stirring lightly, "S'there a p-problem, miss?"

Rukia looked at him sheepishly. "No, I was just wondering about your hair… It's a very strange color. Whatever on earth would possess you to dye it in such a manner?"

She felt him stiffen. "It's natural."

The warmth in his voice was gone when he spoke. And then, it was back. "I'm s-sorry… I s-shouldn't b-be so sensitive… 'bout that."

"About what, if you don't mind me asking?"

He sighed. Rukia looked away. "You don't have to answer. It's as you said. This is none of my business. I shouldn't intrude."

"Feh," he laughed. "Here ya are, hauling my ass home, saying that you don't wanna know. Damn, I got lucky…

Another pause… "Nah, I'll tell ya. My mother… s-she had t-the s-same hair… T-that's why I-I don't d-dye it… b-black or something."

Was – past tense. Rukia felt stupid for asking. Of course he would be sensitive about his dead mother. She sighed – she supposed she should know how he felt. Her mother was dead as well. But it was a different pain for her. She had never known her mother… 'He probably had.'

But there was the pain of loss present in her. A man, whom she had admired, had died a few years back. Of intoxication – the drink had killed him. The scent of liquor in the air had begun to fade away. She could breathe easier.

"Miss?" Ichigo asked worried. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." Honestly, she wasn't sure if she was. She didn't understand – how could a man (a drunk at that), she had just met, affect her so?

Only once before, by Kaien, had she been affected, and never after his death. But this man… "Y-you s-sure, miss?"

Ichigo's eyes narrowed in concern. Rukia finally looked at him and smiled. "I'm fine Ichigo."

"W-what'd you call m-me?"

"Ichigo." Rukia said. "I called you by your name. I hope there isn't any problem with that. I don't particularly like calling people by their surnames. Your given name sufficed."

Laughing, Ichigo rested his head against her. "Ya know… t-that's t-the firs-first t-time, anyone's ever called m-me that. 'Side f-from my family…"

"I hope you don't mind?"

"Nah," he chuckled, his head lolling slightly. "S'better than be-being c-called s-scum and vermin and a-all that…"

Rukia could feel Ichigo's breathing deepen. He was almost asleep – he was becoming heavier and heavier. "You know…"

His voice was thick with lethargy, "M-my mother gave m-me that name… S-so… it's sp-special. T-thanks for call-calling me b-by it… R-Rukia… H-hopefully, I can s-see you a-again."

She smiled, unbeknownst to the man now snoring peacefully on her back. "Yeah… I hope we can as well. For a drunken idiot… you're quite something… in a good way."

And with that, she left him on a doorstep, a small 'Kurosaki' engraved upon its door. It was about time she returned home as well – business unfinished. She had been meaning to meet some friends whom her brother thought… uncouth… But hadn't. A lot had happened in the night. Somehow, that Kurosaki Ichigo had made all of it worthwhile.

As she approached her brother's mansion the first streaks of light appearing in the early morning sky, she smiled for the first time. She would meet that boy again.

Ichigo Kurosaki… she would meet him again.

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"You're home, Ichigo?" a man inquired thoughtfully. "I thought you were going to leave town… You know because of…"

The man paused and then, "What changed that stubborn mind of yours?"

Ichigo snorted, "A girl who hauled my drunken ass home…"

Isshin stared at him, and then laughed harder than he ever had before. "Geez kid, you find love in the strangest of ways…"

"Who the fuck said I was in love with her?"

"Aren't you?" Isshin asked just as seriously. Ichigo frowned… It was not love. But he did want to meet the girl again.

Kuchiki Rukia, he would meet her again. His dad smiled at him, and then…

"Get to work, idiot son, money doesn't grow on trees!"

"Shut up!"

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**Fin**

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**A/N: **Okay… random Victorian era ramblings… Rukia meets bozo Ichigo, let the randomness ensue… What was I thinking when I wrote this?

Eh, more random thoughts. Nonetheless, enjoy.

On a side note, 'Trueblood' chapter is being written. Half done… I had to go to New York City for a bit, hence the delay. And I'm diverging again, so enjoy this for now instead.

**~ Liquid Fire KAN**


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